her surprise remains muted, but there's no missing the way her face goes slack. this could not be more opposite her old apartment. with daenerys, she'd lived in a one-bedroom basement in the red light district. rey's room had been intended for a storage closet, but was just wide enough to fit a queen mattress, so she'd used it, despite the low-hanging ceiling.
this place is too fancy for her, she thinks, and the fact that there are camps — three boys who are all friends from home, she realizes — on either side of her only points out that she's an awkward aberration in the arrangement. but ... they're all welcoming her. they all care. so she takes a deep breath and lowers her bags by the couch. ]
I can just ... sleep here, if that's alright. You don't have to change anything. [ she sniffs the front of her shirt. ] But a shower would be good too.
[ eyebrow wiggle. the deal he'd managed to get on the little, two-bedroom place had been a great one. jamming six people into approximately three rooms, even if each of them got a bathroom? there were times they all stepped on one another and nobody really had a bed, just those little futon mattresses, but the roof access was a godsend. as rey sets her things down, he waits patiently for her decide her next move. ]
And absolutely not, you'll be comfortable at the least, for as long as you need.
[ which he announces as he steps through the doorway into one the the bedrooms, his own, reaching an arm back through to crook a finger at rey. follow, follow! ]
You have to bully the pipes a little, but here. Give them a rattle, they'll work. Towels are here... do you want to borrow one of Lan Zhan's shirts? They're flowy, I think maybe my pants might fit you if you don't mind shimmer prints. I'll leave them outside the door for you! When you're done, you should come up to the roof -- I'll be waiting there! Privacy and all that.
[ her smile is shy, undeniably overwhelmed by wwx's kindness. she inclines her head a little. ]
Later, I might have to get you to show me around the laundry. [ it's not her first priority, now that he has offered clothes on loan. she takes her hair down, pieces at a time, then grabs the towel. as she slips into the bathroom with it, she fixes him with a last look. ]
Thank you. Again.
[ she's being repetitive. but she can't impress enough how much it means to her to just ... have some place to go right now. finding her bedroom occupied by kylo ren had shaken her up more than she'd expected it to. she'd known he would be looking for her, expected he'd come after her whether he'd gone home or not, but ...
she'd thought her space would still be her space. it wasn't.
with one last, fluttery smile, she shuts the bathroom door and makes quick use of wwx's shower. ]
Oh! Thank the young master, [ he demurs in a way that might be ill-fitting for his normally jovial self.
riku is the one who extended the invitation, after all. wei wuxian was simply at home to invite rey in and ( hopefully ) to settle her in to life in the household. he doesn't want her to feel unwelcome, knowing what it means to feel the pang of isolation and distance, even in a household full of friendly faces. while rey bathes, he sets out the clothes he'd promised after briefly eyeballing his own dimensions and determining that maybe the shimmer pants are a little too long for her, so he settles on glitter pants instead. have fun shining like a starry night, rey.
while she showers, he moves some things around in the shared space that serves as kitchenette, convertible living room and dining room and whatever else they need it for at the time. some of the plants end up moved across the room, a spare futon tucked into a corner - bound by a strong ribbon to keep it from flopping across the floor - and he fetches sheets and blankets and a pillow for her too, moving her things into the space neatly. a grocery list is filled with other things they'll need for rey, such as a folding screen for her privacy while sleeping. and the plants ( the majority which were stolen by one of his boyfriends, the one that is a messy drunk -- ) are... well, there's so many of them that he ends up dragging the pots up to the roof to fill out the collection of greenery there.
when she's finally scrubbed clean and exits, she'll see the tail end of his feet disappearing through the window as he climbs up the staircase outside - onto the roof. ]
[ the apartment looks different when she comes back out. a little less green, a little more cluttered, but with room for her. as if she's already an assimilated feature of it. she gives it a few moments after she sees wwx disappear to the roof, just to stand there. just to take it in.
a place for her. really.
she'd learned to take it for granted with daenerys, the last time she was here. this feels different. it's a family that already exists accepting her in. she drags fingers through her wet hair to tame some of it. it's longer now than it was when she'd left by half a foot.
then she comes out to join him, drawing deep steadying breaths to prepare her for the conversation. riku had asked so many questions. he'd wanted her to confess, pried her open. she can only guess that wwx will do the same. ]
It's beautiful up here.
[ she says by way of announcing her presence, but it's honest. the rooftop garden is charming, but the lights are just as much. she's more used to green now. this is ... people. ]
[ on the roof, he balances potted plants in his hands, one on the top of his head as he works to rearrange the small sitting area they've pieced together. a clothesline is strung between one building and the next, a few sheets flapping loose in the gentle breeze that winds through the structures surrounding them, higher and higher still. it'd be easy to jump from one roof to the next, to climb and leap. roxas gravitates to this place, he knows. he enjoys the height too, the ability to lean over the edge and watch people below. ]
I like to come here to meditate. It's the right amount of open and enclosed, like the wind has come to embrace me.
[ he sets plants down, and then plops himself in the middle of them to push them around into new positions. ]
Was the water able to wash away some of the weight you're carrying, miss Rey?
[ her smile is a little hollower, for that question. but she maintains it — as if to use the power of expression alone to shout, i'm okay, really. ]
It's not as simple as that, I'm afraid.
[ she moves to sit beside him, and reaches out to touch one of the plants, one that hasn't yet begun to flower. her fingertips brush the leaves, and it sprouts fresh blooms. the light in her chest glows. she exhales some relief at that. there's some good in her too, after all. ]
[ there really is no amount of water that will wash away what weight anyone carries, but as she breathes a little easier when the plant flourishes under her touch, he leans his shoulder into hers and curls his hand under her forearm. letting her into his emotions, easy as anything. there's concern, but also a sense of simplistic understanding - something in him recognizes her tension, echoes it. ]
How long were you gone? [ as he gestures to the wet ends of her hair, longer than he'd last seen on her at everest. ]
A year. [ her hair shows it. long and almost black after the shower, hanging around her collarbone. not the short, blue cut she'd had to make to avoid notice after rey nolo had 'died.' it feels too fitting, now. that old self dying, the rey who'd been nobody.
she turns her attention upward, searching for stars that she can't see for all the city lights. ]
War has a way of aging the heart, [ a burst of mournfulness, regrets lingering in his sentiments. ]
And leaving injuries that result in invisible scars, the likes of which only those who know... can see.
[ like her, he knows war. he is familiar with the way it makes the young and hopeful into older, pained versions of themselves. the way it haunts memories and hunts in dreams. it makes him concerned for her, for what she might have experienced. ]
[ she shakes her head. there's the lump in her throat. talking about the specifics is impossible without talking about kylo ren. she can't reach for rage when she'd only just seen him in the apartment they'd shared so many warm memories in. even if a part of her wants to burn it down with him and daenerys inside, just now. ]
It's worse than before. The Emperor is alive, and helping the First Order. Ah ... Sort of like ... our United Nations, but worse. [ she can't be sure who she'd explained how much to, before. a year is a long time. ] He wants to bring back the Empire.
How terrible, [ his voice a small thing, he runs his fingers over the back of her hand and does his best to keep from intruding upon the edge to her thoughts; there's dancing along sharpness that she exudes among the rest of her emotions, and then there's trampling all over what little privacy she has when they're holding hands, sharing in their thoughts and feelings. ] You don't even have closure, upon your return. Only more pain, more stress.
[ he can't imagine what that would be like; his only sentiments towards his origins are concern for a boy he knows now to be his son, his nephew, the brother of his partner -- who will shut himself away in his pain, in the end. things that haven't yet come to pass, but he hopes to prevent or change. with rey... she has no end to allow her to rest. ]
I'm not a stranger to war, miss Rey. You don't have to keep how that makes you feel from me... the sorrow, the wrath, the hope and the betrayal. I've felt it as well. What's your role in the war?
[ she speaks slowly, working through it as she explains. ]
Because I'm a jedi, Poe expects me to be a frontline fighter for the Resistance. The Force gives me ... certain abilities. [ a loose gesture. ] You understand, I think. [ the brief conversations she's had with wwx and lwj have suggested that there are many similarities in their powers. ] But Master Organa treats me like I'm still learning.
And Kylo Ren ... [ her expression darkens. ] He thinks I'll help him end it, by changing sides. Because of who my grandfather is. [ fear bubbles up in her stomach. it's the first time she's said it out loud, but wwx makes himself easy to talk to. she breathes out a slow sigh. she's so scared that he's right. she puts her head down, chin resting on her forearms. ]
Yes. I'm able to sympathize, [ he confirms it, hoping that his sincerity reaches her.
like her, he's been a combatant. a little like her, he was expected to do - a lot - for the war efforts. a lot more than he was able to handle, in the end. there's a lack of regret, in regards to how much he'd shouldered, but a little bitterness directed towards himself and his foolishness in the long run. the Force sounds like the concept of qi, and of the training of senses and energy and the connection of self to one's surroundings. her feelings of connectedness between her power and his reach him, and he thinks he understands a little more of her burden. ]
Kylo Ren, [ the bigger ren, ] is on the side of the First Order, then. Do you think that the blood you share with your grandfather will be what best defines the decisions you'll make?
[ cue him connecting the dots: kylo ren, opposing side, first order, empire, emperor. grandfather? so, he takes in a small breath and says: ]
-- when I was young, I did terrible things on behalf of the family that took me in, miss Rey. I loved them, for overlooking that I was a parentless thing, and for raising me, teaching me. The guilt I would feel! Despite their kindness, I could never shake that feeling -- I wanted my father, my mother. My own blood. Your grandfather, he may be a terrible man, but I won't deny that... the yearning I would feel? It would be so painful. And shameful. In endless circles.
[ she confirms his conclusion by way of admitting this. it's tearing her apart, to know that some of her family still lives after all, the same family that had thrown her away. that she could connect to some part of that, if she only stood with kylo ren, if she only accepted that foul inheritance. it had been easier in a way to believe they were dead; accepting that palpatine was alive meant that she needed to make a choice. ]
My parents ... [ mentioning them leaves her breathless. she ducks her head. she tries again, firmer. ] My parents sold me to a junk trader. They died before I ever saw them again. But my grandfather was — ... is — a terrible man. He's hurt so many people. My parents did what they did, and gave their lives, so he'd never find me.
[ she shouldn't want to even consider it, therefore. he's the worst kind of monster. yet he remains her family, her blood a part of her. ]
Where I come from, we venerate those that came before us because, even when dead, they have a continued existence. They remain a part of the world around us, even though we cannot see or touch them -- we're always connected, even though it doesn't make it any easier.
[ like him, she's an orphan. guilty of lacking in familial care, and so, by the standards of a society that values one's conduct towards their parents: disgraceful and shameful, for being left behind. it aches, that old wound that sits within him with a child's voice, calling out and crying for his father, his mother. that couldn't resent those that turned their backs on him as a hungry child, because it was no fault of their own. wei wuxian holds rey's hand tightly between his own, as she talks about her grandfather. ]
It's not your fault that you're thinking of him, miss Rey. Loneliness makes us all desperate. Longing pushes us into the arms of those who don't deserve us. I don't think that an evil man, be he blood to you or not, deserves you. Not because of your power. I couldn't care less about that.
[ he points to the plants she's touched and pressed into growing, their flourishing greenery and soft leaves. ]
I don't think he deserves your gentleness. You were left behind, your blood is shared with an evil man - but you're still gentle.
[ tears slip out now. he gives her a grace she doesn't deserve, and isn't ready to accept. so while the steady stream looks relieved, at first, the sudden seize of her shoulders as she swallows down a sob reveals it for the pained rejection that it is. rey shakes her head fervently, lips trembling with the strain of pressing together.
when she erupts, her voice cracks. ]
There's something dark inside of me. And I - I don't know how to fight it.
[ maybe there's gentleness too, but it's not one or the other. luke had seen that darkness, and refused to train her. leia was a fool for not doing the same. the galaxy would be better off, all of them, if rey never became a jedi. ]
[ rey's shattering pulls him in; he's never been good with anyone's tears, much less a young woman's. his own shijie could look at him with wet eyes and he would clutch at her hands, the hem of her clothing and beg to know what he could do to take the weight from her shoulders, to gift the light back into her smile and she would -- she would -- take him into her arms, the way he tries to take rey into his. to press her crying face into his shoulder and to hold her. ]
May I show you something?
[ i want to share it with you, his sentiments say. not to force her or to give her some preachy message, not in this state. ]
[ for a long stretch, she's quiet. clinging to him like a lost child, bewildered, overwhelmed. she'd never had this comfort. she'd given it, shared in it, but she'd never had anyone who would just hold her. no one but ben, and he is gone now — was never real to begin with.
after a time, she nods, eager and quickly, afraid that she'll take it back if she doesn't offer affirmation quickly enough. she hadn't responded well to riku's efforts to share his experiences on everest. she'd been startled, then, defensive to hear that kylo ren was the one controlling the narrative of her disappearance. but she wants the connection it offers.
and more than that, she wants the distraction from her own pain. all she has done for fifteen years is strive to distract herself from the pain of abandonment, of loss, of suffering. one distraction after another to help her suppress. she invites this one now, welcoming it into the fold. ]
[ there are things that the sharing of words cannot accomplish.
it would be, in a way, dishonest of him to tell her of the things he'd done. it's much easier to give them to her, to show her the man he was ( who he is, even still ) through open memory and honest emotion. wei wuxian takes rey's hand strongly now, his thin fingers laced with hers. he rests his temple against hers, the way sleeping children might find themselves falling into one another's space tenderly. only they are adults, with the hearts of injured, lonely children.
the blue shine in his chest rises, past the folds of his shirt collar, lighting the angle of his jaw and shadowing his eyes as he closes them. he tries to draw her in gently, to bring her into the connection all of the Displaced share. it's in that state of connectivity that he's able to focus her, to guide the shape of her mind as though it were her outstretched hand -- which he introduced to the darkness that sits within him as well.
it's as difficult to grasp as early morning mists and as sleek as unbound, ink black hair. the wei wuxian he presents in this shared space is unlike the wei wuxian he is known as now. yet, even still, his memory-form holds her hand. after all, they are both him. he is -- taller, broader in the shoulder and older than now. tired and gaunt, as though he's starved for sustenances the world could not provide him. and dark. despite the gracious smile on his face, it doesn't reach his eyes entirely.
( he wears black. and red. )
and he is violent. though his memories do not show her the things he had done, there is a sense of it to him. violence and brutality, a chilly vindictiveness and a ruthlessness that decorates him -- things he hides away from others. he is angry and dark; a monstrous thing. ]
They called me the grandmaster of demonic cultivation, [ he says to her, out loud, ] because I would use the dead to kill the living, and then use them all over again. Waste not, want not. They were scared of me, in the end. I died for the terrible things I did. And for a while, I tried to pretend I was a new person. Not this man.
[ he lets her stay there, before the shape of his former self. as long as she likes. ]
But, I am him. And I am also the me you know, and sometimes - Miss Rey - I'm also very scared of that. Just like you.
[ an immediate sense of familiarity strikes her, and spills across the open connection of the empathy bond. she feels as though she recognizes wei wuxian like this, better than she recognizes the one in front of her. she has seen him before. in a nightmare, in a daydream. in kylo ren and in the very vision of her own self on the dark side, swinging that twin-bladed saber.
we are the same.
it startles her, the way she immediately longs for that sense of belonging, the camaraderie she feels in looking on this image of wei wuxian. her hand recoils quickly. she is afraid of herself, not of him. and she is afraid of how compelling she finds this version of him.
the connection breaks and falls limp. hard, uneven breaths fill the startled space between them as she searches his face. ]
But you — you wouldn't do something like that. [ maybe it is a part of him, but it's a part of him that lies in the past. the potential simmers there, all the same. ]
I'm touched that you think of me kindly, miss Rey.
[ he really, truly is. ]
The things I did, in my last life... are things I would still do today. People are not meant to be binary beings, we are not only good or only evil. We're complex, we're honest thieves and lying heroes. I want to do good, and I have chosen to do evil. It isn't a matter of fighting it. Just understanding it. You can't shed the dark parts of yourself any more than you can shed the good.
[ though she recoils from him, his hands are gentle when he reaches for her face. when he touches his thumbs to her tears and wipes them aside, cradling her head between his palms. ]
Then, there are people who have managed to divorce themselves from their good, or their bad. They're no longer in balance. See?
[ one hand drops, and on the digital canvas he plays with so often, he draws a simple figure -- one any child from his time knows. the elegant circle, the flowing line that divides. the black side, the white side and the dot of opposing color within them. the symbol of yin and yang, of cosmological duality. ]
You've been fighting yourself for a long time, haven't you?
[ she does not see herself in this yin-yang symbol. or rather, she doesn't see it wholly in herself. she sees herself and kylo ren, curled around one another, seeking union. but the principle is the same. if they are one soul, they can't come into balance without embracing one another — for all their light, and darkness.
kylo ren won't embrace his light, and if he doesn't, he'll pull her into the darkness. she flinches away from that thought. ]
This is the way of the Force. It's what holds things in balance. [ she traces the middle dividing line between the two sides of the symbol. ] That same Force is in all of us. In me. [ there's tension between the sides now. they're spilling into one another. ] But not here.
[ maybe she'd fallen out of balance because she'd lost her connection to the force. maybe it wasn't her fault, entirely, that she had drifted towards kylo ren like that. ]
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no subject
[ wow.
her surprise remains muted, but there's no missing the way her face goes slack. this could not be more opposite her old apartment. with daenerys, she'd lived in a one-bedroom basement in the red light district. rey's room had been intended for a storage closet, but was just wide enough to fit a queen mattress, so she'd used it, despite the low-hanging ceiling.
this place is too fancy for her, she thinks, and the fact that there are camps — three boys who are all friends from home, she realizes — on either side of her only points out that she's an awkward aberration in the arrangement. but ... they're all welcoming her. they all care. so she takes a deep breath and lowers her bags by the couch. ]
I can just ... sleep here, if that's alright. You don't have to change anything. [ she sniffs the front of her shirt. ] But a shower would be good too.
no subject
[ eyebrow wiggle. the deal he'd managed to get on the little, two-bedroom place had been a great one. jamming six people into approximately three rooms, even if each of them got a bathroom? there were times they all stepped on one another and nobody really had a bed, just those little futon mattresses, but the roof access was a godsend. as rey sets her things down, he waits patiently for her decide her next move. ]
And absolutely not, you'll be comfortable at the least, for as long as you need.
[ which he announces as he steps through the doorway into one the the bedrooms, his own, reaching an arm back through to crook a finger at rey. follow, follow! ]
You have to bully the pipes a little, but here. Give them a rattle, they'll work. Towels are here... do you want to borrow one of Lan Zhan's shirts? They're flowy, I think maybe my pants might fit you if you don't mind shimmer prints. I'll leave them outside the door for you! When you're done, you should come up to the roof -- I'll be waiting there! Privacy and all that.
no subject
[ her smile is shy, undeniably overwhelmed by wwx's kindness. she inclines her head a little. ]
Later, I might have to get you to show me around the laundry. [ it's not her first priority, now that he has offered clothes on loan. she takes her hair down, pieces at a time, then grabs the towel. as she slips into the bathroom with it, she fixes him with a last look. ]
Thank you. Again.
[ she's being repetitive. but she can't impress enough how much it means to her to just ... have some place to go right now. finding her bedroom occupied by kylo ren had shaken her up more than she'd expected it to. she'd known he would be looking for her, expected he'd come after her whether he'd gone home or not, but ...
she'd thought her space would still be her space. it wasn't.
with one last, fluttery smile, she shuts the bathroom door and makes quick use of wwx's shower. ]
no subject
riku is the one who extended the invitation, after all. wei wuxian was simply at home to invite rey in and ( hopefully ) to settle her in to life in the household. he doesn't want her to feel unwelcome, knowing what it means to feel the pang of isolation and distance, even in a household full of friendly faces. while rey bathes, he sets out the clothes he'd promised after briefly eyeballing his own dimensions and determining that maybe the shimmer pants are a little too long for her, so he settles on glitter pants instead. have fun shining like a starry night, rey.
while she showers, he moves some things around in the shared space that serves as kitchenette, convertible living room and dining room and whatever else they need it for at the time. some of the plants end up moved across the room, a spare futon tucked into a corner - bound by a strong ribbon to keep it from flopping across the floor - and he fetches sheets and blankets and a pillow for her too, moving her things into the space neatly. a grocery list is filled with other things they'll need for rey, such as a folding screen for her privacy while sleeping. and the plants ( the majority which were stolen by one of his boyfriends, the one that is a messy drunk -- ) are... well, there's so many of them that he ends up dragging the pots up to the roof to fill out the collection of greenery there.
when she's finally scrubbed clean and exits, she'll see the tail end of his feet disappearing through the window as he climbs up the staircase outside - onto the roof. ]
no subject
a place for her. really.
she'd learned to take it for granted with daenerys, the last time she was here. this feels different. it's a family that already exists accepting her in. she drags fingers through her wet hair to tame some of it. it's longer now than it was when she'd left by half a foot.
then she comes out to join him, drawing deep steadying breaths to prepare her for the conversation. riku had asked so many questions. he'd wanted her to confess, pried her open. she can only guess that wwx will do the same. ]
It's beautiful up here.
[ she says by way of announcing her presence, but it's honest. the rooftop garden is charming, but the lights are just as much. she's more used to green now. this is ... people. ]
no subject
I like to come here to meditate. It's the right amount of open and enclosed, like the wind has come to embrace me.
[ he sets plants down, and then plops himself in the middle of them to push them around into new positions. ]
Was the water able to wash away some of the weight you're carrying, miss Rey?
no subject
It's not as simple as that, I'm afraid.
[ she moves to sit beside him, and reaches out to touch one of the plants, one that hasn't yet begun to flower. her fingertips brush the leaves, and it sprouts fresh blooms. the light in her chest glows. she exhales some relief at that. there's some good in her too, after all. ]
no subject
[ there really is no amount of water that will wash away what weight anyone carries, but as she breathes a little easier when the plant flourishes under her touch, he leans his shoulder into hers and curls his hand under her forearm. letting her into his emotions, easy as anything. there's concern, but also a sense of simplistic understanding - something in him recognizes her tension, echoes it. ]
How long were you gone? [ as he gestures to the wet ends of her hair, longer than he'd last seen on her at everest. ]
no subject
she turns her attention upward, searching for stars that she can't see for all the city lights. ]
We're at war, though. It felt ... longer.
no subject
And leaving injuries that result in invisible scars, the likes of which only those who know... can see.
[ like her, he knows war. he is familiar with the way it makes the young and hopeful into older, pained versions of themselves. the way it haunts memories and hunts in dreams. it makes him concerned for her, for what she might have experienced. ]
-- your war isn't over?
cw: vague thoughts of murder??? ? ? it's cool
[ she shakes her head. there's the lump in her throat. talking about the specifics is impossible without talking about kylo ren. she can't reach for rage when she'd only just seen him in the apartment they'd shared so many warm memories in. even if a part of her wants to burn it down with him and daenerys inside, just now. ]
It's worse than before. The Emperor is alive, and helping the First Order. Ah ... Sort of like ... our United Nations, but worse. [ she can't be sure who she'd explained how much to, before. a year is a long time. ] He wants to bring back the Empire.
no subject
[ he can't imagine what that would be like; his only sentiments towards his origins are concern for a boy he knows now to be his son, his nephew, the brother of his partner -- who will shut himself away in his pain, in the end. things that haven't yet come to pass, but he hopes to prevent or change. with rey... she has no end to allow her to rest. ]
I'm not a stranger to war, miss Rey. You don't have to keep how that makes you feel from me... the sorrow, the wrath, the hope and the betrayal. I've felt it as well. What's your role in the war?
no subject
[ she speaks slowly, working through it as she explains. ]
Because I'm a jedi, Poe expects me to be a frontline fighter for the Resistance. The Force gives me ... certain abilities. [ a loose gesture. ] You understand, I think. [ the brief conversations she's had with wwx and lwj have suggested that there are many similarities in their powers. ] But Master Organa treats me like I'm still learning.
And Kylo Ren ... [ her expression darkens. ] He thinks I'll help him end it, by changing sides. Because of who my grandfather is. [ fear bubbles up in her stomach. it's the first time she's said it out loud, but wwx makes himself easy to talk to. she breathes out a slow sigh. she's so scared that he's right. she puts her head down, chin resting on her forearms. ]
no subject
like her, he's been a combatant. a little like her, he was expected to do - a lot - for the war efforts. a lot more than he was able to handle, in the end. there's a lack of regret, in regards to how much he'd shouldered, but a little bitterness directed towards himself and his foolishness in the long run. the Force sounds like the concept of qi, and of the training of senses and energy and the connection of self to one's surroundings. her feelings of connectedness between her power and his reach him, and he thinks he understands a little more of her burden. ]
Kylo Ren, [ the bigger ren, ] is on the side of the First Order, then. Do you think that the blood you share with your grandfather will be what best defines the decisions you'll make?
[ cue him connecting the dots: kylo ren, opposing side, first order, empire, emperor. grandfather? so, he takes in a small breath and says: ]
-- when I was young, I did terrible things on behalf of the family that took me in, miss Rey. I loved them, for overlooking that I was a parentless thing, and for raising me, teaching me. The guilt I would feel! Despite their kindness, I could never shake that feeling -- I wanted my father, my mother. My own blood. Your grandfather, he may be a terrible man, but I won't deny that... the yearning I would feel? It would be so painful. And shameful. In endless circles.
no subject
[ she confirms his conclusion by way of admitting this. it's tearing her apart, to know that some of her family still lives after all, the same family that had thrown her away. that she could connect to some part of that, if she only stood with kylo ren, if she only accepted that foul inheritance. it had been easier in a way to believe they were dead; accepting that palpatine was alive meant that she needed to make a choice. ]
My parents ... [ mentioning them leaves her breathless. she ducks her head. she tries again, firmer. ] My parents sold me to a junk trader. They died before I ever saw them again. But my grandfather was — ... is — a terrible man. He's hurt so many people. My parents did what they did, and gave their lives, so he'd never find me.
[ she shouldn't want to even consider it, therefore. he's the worst kind of monster. yet he remains her family, her blood a part of her. ]
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[ like him, she's an orphan. guilty of lacking in familial care, and so, by the standards of a society that values one's conduct towards their parents: disgraceful and shameful, for being left behind. it aches, that old wound that sits within him with a child's voice, calling out and crying for his father, his mother. that couldn't resent those that turned their backs on him as a hungry child, because it was no fault of their own. wei wuxian holds rey's hand tightly between his own, as she talks about her grandfather. ]
It's not your fault that you're thinking of him, miss Rey. Loneliness makes us all desperate. Longing pushes us into the arms of those who don't deserve us. I don't think that an evil man, be he blood to you or not, deserves you. Not because of your power. I couldn't care less about that.
[ he points to the plants she's touched and pressed into growing, their flourishing greenery and soft leaves. ]
I don't think he deserves your gentleness. You were left behind, your blood is shared with an evil man - but you're still gentle.
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when she erupts, her voice cracks. ]
There's something dark inside of me. And I - I don't know how to fight it.
[ maybe there's gentleness too, but it's not one or the other. luke had seen that darkness, and refused to train her. leia was a fool for not doing the same. the galaxy would be better off, all of them, if rey never became a jedi. ]
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May I show you something?
[ i want to share it with you, his sentiments say. not to force her or to give her some preachy message, not in this state. ]
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after a time, she nods, eager and quickly, afraid that she'll take it back if she doesn't offer affirmation quickly enough. she hadn't responded well to riku's efforts to share his experiences on everest. she'd been startled, then, defensive to hear that kylo ren was the one controlling the narrative of her disappearance. but she wants the connection it offers.
and more than that, she wants the distraction from her own pain. all she has done for fifteen years is strive to distract herself from the pain of abandonment, of loss, of suffering. one distraction after another to help her suppress. she invites this one now, welcoming it into the fold. ]
god this is so late but this entire cr is my life
it would be, in a way, dishonest of him to tell her of the things he'd done. it's much easier to give them to her, to show her the man he was ( who he is, even still ) through open memory and honest emotion. wei wuxian takes rey's hand strongly now, his thin fingers laced with hers. he rests his temple against hers, the way sleeping children might find themselves falling into one another's space tenderly. only they are adults, with the hearts of injured, lonely children.
the blue shine in his chest rises, past the folds of his shirt collar, lighting the angle of his jaw and shadowing his eyes as he closes them. he tries to draw her in gently, to bring her into the connection all of the Displaced share. it's in that state of connectivity that he's able to focus her, to guide the shape of her mind as though it were her outstretched hand -- which he introduced to the darkness that sits within him as well.
it's as difficult to grasp as early morning mists and as sleek as unbound, ink black hair. the wei wuxian he presents in this shared space is unlike the wei wuxian he is known as now. yet, even still, his memory-form holds her hand. after all, they are both him. he is -- taller, broader in the shoulder and older than now. tired and gaunt, as though he's starved for sustenances the world could not provide him. and dark. despite the gracious smile on his face, it doesn't reach his eyes entirely.
( he wears black. and red. )
and he is violent. though his memories do not show her the things he had done, there is a sense of it to him. violence and brutality, a chilly vindictiveness and a ruthlessness that decorates him -- things he hides away from others. he is angry and dark; a monstrous thing. ]
They called me the grandmaster of demonic cultivation, [ he says to her, out loud, ] because I would use the dead to kill the living, and then use them all over again. Waste not, want not. They were scared of me, in the end. I died for the terrible things I did. And for a while, I tried to pretend I was a new person. Not this man.
[ he lets her stay there, before the shape of his former self. as long as she likes. ]
But, I am him. And I am also the me you know, and sometimes - Miss Rey - I'm also very scared of that. Just like you.
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we are the same.
it startles her, the way she immediately longs for that sense of belonging, the camaraderie she feels in looking on this image of wei wuxian. her hand recoils quickly. she is afraid of herself, not of him. and she is afraid of how compelling she finds this version of him.
the connection breaks and falls limp. hard, uneven breaths fill the startled space between them as she searches his face. ]
But you — you wouldn't do something like that. [ maybe it is a part of him, but it's a part of him that lies in the past. the potential simmers there, all the same. ]
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[ he really, truly is. ]
The things I did, in my last life... are things I would still do today. People are not meant to be binary beings, we are not only good or only evil. We're complex, we're honest thieves and lying heroes. I want to do good, and I have chosen to do evil. It isn't a matter of fighting it. Just understanding it. You can't shed the dark parts of yourself any more than you can shed the good.
[ though she recoils from him, his hands are gentle when he reaches for her face. when he touches his thumbs to her tears and wipes them aside, cradling her head between his palms. ]
Then, there are people who have managed to divorce themselves from their good, or their bad. They're no longer in balance. See?
[ one hand drops, and on the digital canvas he plays with so often, he draws a simple figure -- one any child from his time knows. the elegant circle, the flowing line that divides. the black side, the white side and the dot of opposing color within them. the symbol of yin and yang, of cosmological duality. ]
You've been fighting yourself for a long time, haven't you?
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Powerful light, powerful darkness.
[ she does not see herself in this yin-yang symbol. or rather, she doesn't see it wholly in herself. she sees herself and kylo ren, curled around one another, seeking union. but the principle is the same. if they are one soul, they can't come into balance without embracing one another — for all their light, and darkness.
kylo ren won't embrace his light, and if he doesn't, he'll pull her into the darkness. she flinches away from that thought. ]
This is the way of the Force. It's what holds things in balance. [ she traces the middle dividing line between the two sides of the symbol. ] That same Force is in all of us. In me. [ there's tension between the sides now. they're spilling into one another. ] But not here.
[ maybe she'd fallen out of balance because she'd lost her connection to the force. maybe it wasn't her fault, entirely, that she had drifted towards kylo ren like that. ]